


He's Got So Much Fucking Hair

by Queer_and_trashy



Series: Trans Model AU [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Another Man photoshoot, Hairstylist!Louis, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Model!Harry, Nonbinary Character, Other, Trans Male Character, Trans!Louis, genderfluid!harry, nonbinary!Zayn - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queer_and_trashy/pseuds/Queer_and_trashy
Summary: Professional hairstylist Louis for years has had a bit of a celebrity crush on Harry Styles the gorgeous queer model who just recently came out as genderfluid. So when he gets the opportunity to work with his dream partner on one of the coolest projects of career he might be a little flustered.Aka Harry does the Another Man photoshoot and Louis is gay. Also, they're both trans because I can. Was written for hltransenbyficfest may it rest in peace
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Trans Model AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752814
Comments: 13
Kudos: 89





	He's Got So Much Fucking Hair

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been in the works for many months and I'm quite proud of how it turned out. It's one of my first projects where I didn't accept it as good enough but went back and actively tried to make it better. Mostly thanks to the love of my life my best friend Lee. The title comes from Fair by The Amazing Devil as they're the new hyperfixation I gained midway through this. Also this is trans characters written by a trans man author btw

Louis felt like he might puke. Nerves bubbled in his stomach, waging a war with the McDonald’s egg sandwich he had scarfed down too quickly on his way to work this morning. Was he sweating? Maybe he should sit down. He was about to start the most ambitious project of his career with the person he admired most in the industry. He couldn’t help but be a bit overdramatic about it. It was  _ Harry _ fucking  _ Styles _ , after all. Just last night he had gotten a little high with Zayn and waxed poetic about Styles’ awe-inspiring career and beauty.

Currently, he wouldn’t mind a hit right now if it’d make him less of an antsy mess. He never got anxious around celebrities any more after a few years in the business but this was special. He had gotten to work almost an hour earlier than he normally would, just to dart around making sure he had every hair product he’d ever even considered using in his life. 

Zayn leaned back in zir makeup chair and laughed at him. Louis whipped around to glare at zir. “Stop running around like a chicken with its head cut off,” ze said.

“Mind your own business,” Louis bit back.

Stopping at the back of the chair in front of his set up, Louis placed his hands on the wooden posts. He looked at himself in the mirror, messing with his messy brown fringe he hoped came off as windswept rather than bedhead. Tired but excited eyes stared back at him from his fitful sleep the night before. He was as ready as he’ll ever be. And besides Harry was just a fucking person. What was the worst that could happen?

He took a deep breath, annoyed at the slight shake of nerves he felt in his chest when all of a sudden he was distracted by a commotion on the other side of the room. In walked the person of the hour, entering the shooting space and immediately seeking out all crew members for introductions. Louis had heard in interviews and from others in the business that this was a norm for Styles but it was still heartwarming to see in person. So often models were aloof at best to the behind the scenes staff. Just last week they had a twat that decided the way to get people’s attention was snapping his fingers in their faces. It was refreshing to see humility.

Louis’ eyes were glued to brown curls as they wove their way around the room. Harry was dressed down given that wardrobe would be provided, wearing a cozy-looking black hoodie and sweats. There was some writing across the front Louis couldn’t read from this distance but he could tell it was rainbow letters.

Looking down Louis examined his own outfit, a stylish sweater and black skinny jeans that he hoped balanced sophisticated and comfortable. He refused to acknowledge Zayn’s comments about them being his “pulling” jeans. He’s allowed to want his ass to look good for his own happiness and no one else’s interest.

Standing there, chin to chest, picking a bit of lint off his sweater was where Harry found him. “Hello, I’m Harry,” the model said, extending a hand.

Louis cleared his throat and accepted the handshake a bit too quickly. “Louis. Tomlinson. I’ll be taking care of your curls.” He managed not to externally cringe at his own awkwardness.

“Ahh, hairstylist. I’m sure you’re proper excited about this project then.” Harry reached up and touched his hair that had been pulled up into a messy bun.

“Absolutely” Louis grinned, relaxing now that they were talking business. “It’s going to be a fascinating shoot, I’m honored you chose us to work with you for this.” 

“Honored to cut my hair. Don’t go inflating my sense of importance too much now,” he said with a laugh. The smile on his face let Louis see his famous dimples up close and personal.

“But flattery is such a good shade on you, I am a stylist after all.” The flirting slipped off his tongue before he could second guess himself.

Harry’s eyes darted up and down, taking Louis in for the first time. A light blush colored Louis’ cheeks, but he stood his ground under the supermodel’s gaze. “Touché.”

“Alright everyone, we should get to work,” the director announced. “I’m hoping to start shooting around 11, so let’s get going. Harry, you’ll do hair, then makeup, then wardrobe.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said in response. He turned back to Louis who was still only an arm’s length away. “Guess that means you’re stuck with me.”

“I think I’ll manage,” Louis said with a smile. “Step into my office,” he said, gesturing to the chair next to them in front of a table littered with brushes, creams, and sprays. Looking at it now it seemed far more of a cluttered mess than he’d thought. 

Harry stepped around to sit up in the chair, wiggling a little to get comfortable. Louis refused to find it cute. About to reach up and pull Harry’s hair from its bun, Louis hesitated, debating whether he should ask. It depended on the person, whether they saw it as kind or rude. But fuck it, he wanted to make Styles comfortable and this was important in that.

“Oh, real quick, do you have a preference for pronouns right now?” Louis’ heart fluttered, hoping it wasn’t too invasive. He knew from personal experience some days that question was a salve for all the irritation of people’s assumptions. But, others it was a scalding burn reminding you others might not perceive you as what you’re feeling. He couldn’t speak to the experiences of nonbinary people like Harry where complications arose due to the practical nonexistence of “passing” as enby but he certainly knew gender is complicated.

“We’re feeling boy today, so he him, love,” Harry said.

Louis loved the flippancy with which he said it. This was one of the reasons he admired Harry so much, the model’s unabashed individuality in his identity, existing in fluidity even within the hardline structures of fame and mass media. 

“Just let me know if you want a change,” Louis said. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder lightly to emphasize, hoping Harry doesn’t mind the touch. Louis has always been the tactile type. He can’t help it.

Harry nodded with a smile. With that out of the way, Louis got to work immediately, pulling the hair elastic out of the curls in front of him, letting them tumble down to Harry’s shoulders. He had gorgeous hair. That was always one of the main draws in his photos leading to him having worked with several hair products and accessories. Celebrity hair journeys were Louis’ favorite sections of trashy gossip mags, but Harry’s had outshone them all. Watching the different stages, each better than the last as the beautiful brown curls grew along with Harry’s fame was quite the experience for Louis. He was a professional and  _ not  _ creepy, but it still felt like a privilege to get to style these locks.

“Oh no! I’m a bad queer, I forgot to ask your pronouns in return,” Harry said with a laugh. This is why Louis loved other trans people.

“He/him as well. Oh and because ze might not mention it your makeup artist Zayn is ze/zir. Or they/them for people who don’t know grammar. Don’t worry I’m allowed to say that because ze is my bestest friend in the whole world.”

Louis heard a snort from the table next to them where Zayn was lurking. “Don’t believe anything he says,” ze said to Harry.

“Oh, troublemaker are you?” Harry asked, turning his head to look at Louis. Louis gently guided his head forward again with his hands. He was trying to do a job here after all.

Louis leaned over the chair to grab the brush he needed for Harry’s hair, leaving even less space between them. He was probably imagining the heat he felt from the model’s body. “I like to have me fun.”

Harry nodded, looking content with that, and Louis got to work. It was a simple styling for today, nothing like the elaborate hair spikes he does for Avant-Garde fashion shows. The director’s notes he had been given had basically been “elegant sex hair”. Louis’ image was a middle part and a soft curl, with a dash of tousled moisture to give that freshly fucked look. What could he say? he was an artíst.

“So, Louis Tomlinson the hairstylist, what is it about hair?” Harry said after Louis had been working silently for a few minutes. Louis wasn’t surprised by the question, it was a common one from bored models stuck in his chair for twenty minutes.

“Well, do you want the straight answer or the gay answer?” Having been asked the question so many different times by different people there were a few ways he’d learned to present it.

“What kind of woman do you take me for?” Harry said, mock offended. “Please proceed.”

Louis giggled and picked up a product from his table that would give the type of texture he was looking for. “So, it all began when I was a little boy with a dreadful bob I used to secretly cut shorter using safety scissors.” Harry laughed at that. “But really being trans and gay, my haircuts and dyes were such a big outlet for me. It taught me how meaningful expression is to people and I wanted to be a part of that. Plus I got plenty of practice in my teens giving all my friends undercuts and pink hair.”

“I love that so much. Hair has been such a big thing for me as well as I’ve been growing it out these past few years. It helped me see my true self for the first time and was definitely a catalyst in my coming out as genderfluid.” 

Louis looked down at the brown hair between his fingers and smiled. “That’s really beautiful and exactly why I do what I do.” Looking up he and Harry locked eyes in the mirror in front of them. At that moment, Louis felt a strange connection, more than just relating to similar experiences. 

The minute passed, however, and Louis discovered he was basically done. It really was a simple project for today, all the exciting bits would come later. Reaching forward for the hairspray to set the look, he purposefully grazed his arm against Harry’s shoulder. A light thrill ran through him and he shook his head at himself. God, he was obvious.

With one more spray Louis deemed his work complete. “Alright, you’re all set.” 

Harry hopped right out of his chair and turned around to smile wide at Louis. “Thank you, it was lovely talking to you,” he said before stepping around the chair and wrapping Louis into a quick hug. The hug was casual and platonic, very in line with the friendly nature of the model but it still made Louis’ heart race.

“Yeah, ‘course” he stuttered out, trying not to show how flustered he was on his face. The smirk in Harry’s eyes confirmed he failed. 

Harry gave one last wave before walking the five feet to Zayn’s station to get his make-up started. Usually, when Louis wasn’t annoyed by the model they were working with that day he would linger, making snarky comments just to irritate Zayn until ze yelled at him. Having already said his goodbyes with Harry though intimidated him into taking a break, walking out of the big shooting room.

He found himself in the hallway making his way towards the bathroom a little dazed from his experience. Louis never thought he’d get to meet The Harry Styles let alone style his hair and talk with him about gender. That was teenage daydream type of shit. 

He thought of back when he was eighteen and Harry became a hit teen model for an Abercrombie campaign. He garnered attention at sixteen for being less muscular and masculine than most of their models, a change from their standard 25-year-olds with sheetrock abs pretending to be high schoolers. Louis was only slightly ashamed to admit Harry had featured in some of his fantasies at the time and not only pertaining to his interest in the fashion industry.

After using the bathroom and splashing some water on his face to cool the permanent blush there, Louis moved at a snail’s pace walking back towards the main room. He hoped that if he took long enough by the time he got back Zayn would already be done and Harry would’ve moved on to another section. 

Just his luck that as he walked up to his table he saw Harry still getting final touches in Zayn’s chair. His face tilted slightly up with eyes closed he looked serene amongst the bustle that was the set up around him. Louis’ gaze was fixed on Harry as one of the designers came up to him with what must’ve been accessories in their hand. 

He watched as the designer debated between the three choices she had before deciding on what Louis thought was a black choker. He narrowed his eyes as Harry’s perfectly styled curls were tossed back to make room for the necklace. He had always been territorial of his work despite the irrationality of it given it existed on someone else’s head. Watching Harry wasn’t a problem if it was to make sure no one messed up his hair. 

Louis very quickly discovered his mistake categorizing the necklace as a choker. He had been anticipating black felt or lace. What he saw instead was the contrast between the pale throat of the supermodel that had occasionally featured in Louis’ sexual fantasies since he was eighteen and a black leather collar complete with a brassy buckle. This was going to be a long day.

Just when the designer was satisfied with the positioning of the collar, Harry turned to catch Louis staring. The model smirked, sending a blush to Louis’ cheeks. Normally Louis prided himself on his ability to remain nonchalant when flirting, loving to twist people around his finger, and fluster them. He wondered if this faint dizziness was how they felt. Not that Harry was  _ flirting _ with him. 

In his panic of being caught staring, Louis didn’t notice Harry getting ushered out of the makeup chair towards wardrobe. No matter the tug he felt to follow he kept his feet glued to where he was. The last thing he needed was to dote after a celebrity like a lost puppy, hoping to get a glimpse of him in his underwear. He’d already maxed out the acceptable amount of creepy thoughts for the day.

“Earth to Louis,” Zayn said, snapping zir fingers in front of his face. “At least wait until you’re home before you start developing your wank fantasies.”

“Hey, fuck off,” Louis said shoving Zayn so ze nearly fell into a chair. Zayn was quick to straighten out and push back against him leading to them having a slight wrestling match in front of all their coworkers. Most people around here knew them well enough to not bat an eye, but Louis ended the tussle with the thought Harry might see and think he’s unprofessional. 

_ Screw that actually _ , he thought to himself. He embraced his childish tendencies as they made life more fun. If Harry was the type to judge him for that then he doesn’t deserve to stay ranked number one of Louis’ hottest people he’s met list. That’d put Zayn back at the top when ze had finally been dethroned, but he’d just have to live with that. 

“Come on lover boy, let’s go grab coffee,” Zayn said, swinging an arm around Louis’ shoulder. Taking a few minutes away from the chaos to process would probably do Louis some good. Just another reason to add to the list of why Zayn was his best friend. 

“I will come and get a  _ tea _ with you,” Louis said. The two walked out arguing over the merits of caffeinated beverages a brief reprieve for Louis’ brain and it’s gay screaming for Harry Styles.

******

After their leisurely hot drink break, Louis insisted they returned to the shoot to make sure they weren’t needed for any touch-ups. Generally, unless it’s a complicated styling with a lot of different looks make-up and hair were free to go after the initial set up. Usually, by this time Louis would be back at his apartment in his pants answering emails with Friends on in the background. 

It wasn’t unheard of to linger, especially to see one of the most gorgeous people on this Earth take photos in a collar. So, he may have ulterior motives other than work but he dragged Zayn along to cover for himself if anyone questioned. He’d only stay for half an hour or so.

Louis stood a few feet away from the photographer in the corner to stay out of everyone’s way while keeping his eye line fixed on the enchanting image before him. Harry Styles stood in front of a plain white background dressed in a red print suit without any undershirt. The outfit was personalized not only by the black leather around his neck and worn out converse, but Harry’s own skin covered in tattoos. 

The casual shoot lacking unnatural posing or characters seemed to ooze the model’s personality. Harry looking down at himself told the camera his innocent claim of his own identity, no posing of his body, no implication he was aware of the eyes fixed to him always. When he shifted to sitting the innocence stayed but not to be confused with naivety. Harry sat with a sweet smile in complete ownership of himself, of his own body despite the collar around his throat and exposure that contradicted that. 

This ownership was something that as a trans person and a model Harry needed to claw back from prying hands, and Louis was astounded by it. Louis doesn’t know when was the last time he blinked. Or breathed. He was almost thankful when an outfit change paused the shoot. He realized he hadn’t even thought about Harry’s hair.

Louis looked around and didn’t see Zayn anywhere nearby. He should probably go find zir but also he didn’t want to lose his place when they start up again. So, he stood there for the full twenty minutes, fidgeting in place and avoiding eye contact with the production staff giving him funny looks. Some embarrassment was worth it.

He doubled down on that sentiment when Harry returned in another suit jacket over bare skin combo. It seemed the shoes and collar were fixtures across all looks. In fact, if Louis remembered right the inspiration for this segment was Harry’s own past and he was meant to bring items that were important to him. Oh god does that mean… the shoes were clearly well-loved. But the collar? Could it be from the model’s personal collection? Louis’ brain couldn’t bear to stay on that thought.

A stool was added to the blank white scene, Harry perching on top of it. With his legs crossed and biting his cheek, the past self-assurance became dainty and feminine. He still owned himself fully but with an invitation. The almost bored expression on his face invited submission simply for the fun of it. Harry’s playfulness seemed to melt into a soft bliss as if being talked down into a subspace. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back just slightly to accept anything that was destined for him. Soft brown curls perfected the look of a gorgeous sub who would do whatever Louis asked.

_ Nope, nope, nope, end that now _ . Louis forced his eyes away to stare down at his own feet. Bloody hell, he was being so unprofessional. He really needed to get a handle on himself if he was going to be able to look Harry in the eye the next few days. Trans privilege was the fact that he didn’t need to stress about doing something embarrassing like get a hard-on. 

Once he got himself under control he risked looking up again with a neutral mind. Only to find Harry no longer focused on the cameraman and instead staring directly at Louis. Louis’ gaze met green eyes still misted with blissful submission. It was only broken when Harry’s face broke into a wide grin, dimples and all. 

Louis needed to leave. He wasn’t running away. He just realized there was that event next week that he hadn’t started planning yet. Or the runway at the end of the month. Or bills. Or anything other than being afraid of the beautiful person behind him.

*****

Louis entered the building clutching his cup of tea like a lifeline. It was officially one of the rare days he wished he could stand the taste of coffee if only to get the caffeine in him faster. Last night was rough, filled with tossing and turning as he overthought all the details of the day before. He had only managed to fall asleep around two in the morning after a guilt -tinged wank. Not accustomed to stressing like this over people, the whole ordeal left Louis apathetic for the morning ahead of him. Maybe that was a good thing, to get all the emotions out ahead of time.

He stumbled into the combined office space slash salon he shared with a few other stylists to be assaulted by a well dressed Harry Styles. In contrast to the sweats look from the day before, today Harry had donned skin-tight black jeans paired with a gorgeous white blouse with purple flowers that probably cost more than a month of Louis’ paycheck. He couldn’t do much more than stare in his fragile state.

“Hello, you look cozy today,” Harry said with a smile. Louis looked down at the trackies and hoodie he had thrown on, quickly scanning that there weren’t any stains on them. He was the king of pulling off comfy-casual but no one looked good sloppy.

“Was inspired by you yesterday. Though if I had known there was a new dress code…” he said blatantly tracing his eyes up and down Harry’s figure.

“Well, I didn’t know I was going to have two gorgeous stylists yesterday. I figured I better up my game.”

Louis blushed. It wasn’t quite flirting given Zayn was included. Harry was here in Louis’ room though, so he’d count it.

“Looks great love, though might leave you a bit itchy later on.” He was already letting the pet names slip out.

Harry looked confused before realizing. “Oh right, hair!” The model tapped himself in the forehead with his palm.

Louis smiled at the dorkiness of the person in front of him. “Yes babe, hair. I am a hairdresser after all.” 

“Yeah, yeah. The person out there said I should wait for you here. They figured you’d wanna work in your own space for something like this”

Louis nodded to himself thinking through the steps of what he was about to do. “Here does work best. I just need to run to the shooting space real quick and grab a couple things I left there yesterday.” His face got warm thinking about the day before, leaving without having put any of his things away despite having lingered on set for an extra two hours.

“Of course. I’ll just wait here.” Louis smiled at the model before turning to rush towards the other room.

“Wait, Louis,” Harry said stopping Louis in his tracks. “It’s, um, she/her today, by the way. Just since… you said before.”

Louis’ face melted into a far gentler smile, a zip of fondness running through him. He was a little honored Harry would endure the awkwardness that is clarifying pronouns with people to make sure he knew. “Thank you, darling. Glad to know.” 

She beamed back at him and he stayed there for a few seconds longer basking in it before turning away to finally go grab his things. He couldn’t be bothered to suppress the skip in his step, despite any curious glances he got for it.

  
  


Returning a few minutes later arms laden with hair products he found Harry standing by Louis’ station, looking at a couple of photos he had framed. “Oh, hi, you’re back,” she said looking up.

“Yup,” Louis said, dropping various bottles and cans on the table, sending a few rolling towards the edges. He sprawled himself across the surface to catch them, managing to still let one clang onto the hard floor. “Oops.”

Harry and him both leaned down to grab it at the same time bumping heads with each other. “Sorry, sorry!” Louis said face flushing as he straightened up, accepting the can of hairspray Harry handed to him.

“I thought you were supposed to help my head, not hurt it. You know, ‘cause you’re cutting my hair?” she said with a goofy smile.

The joke didn’t even make any sense, but Louis found himself giggling anyways. “Why don’t we get started, now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself. Just sit here and we’ll make a plan,” he said tapping the back of the chair in front of his station. The seat was the type with a foot pump to raise it higher but as Harry sat Louis knew she was plenty tall enough at the lowest setting. The solution to not letting their height difference irk him was to remember it was also kind of hot.

“Who are those kids in your photos?” she asked.

Louis looked up at the familiar picture on his desk showing him tackled by four rambunctious children; two young girls and two toddlers. “Oh, those are my siblings. Big age difference, I know. Love them to bits though, go up north to visit ‘em as often as I can.”

“How sweet, I love babies,” Harry said, turning around to look at Louis.

“That’s from a few years ago, the younger twins are almost six now.” Louis used his hands to gently turn Harry’s head to face towards the mirror. “If I’m gonna start, you need to learn to keep looking forward .”

While leaning forward to grab some elastics and a comb, Louis saw a touch of pink color her cheeks. “Right. Wait did you say  _ younger _ twins, as in two sets?”

Louis pulled Harry’s long curls over the back of the chair, brushing through it. “Yeah, Daisy and Phoebe are the older two and Doris and Ernest are the babies. Runs in the family apparently.”

“Wow, your poor mum,” Harry laughed. 

“I know she’s a goddess, honest.” Louis gathered up the hair in his hands, tying it into a low ponytail that would leave him a good few inches left to shape up into the first look. Looking up in the mirror he noticed Harry had gone paler, smile no longer in place. “You alright love?”

“Yeah,” she said, voice sounding gruff before clearing her throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. It’s gonna be a change.”

Louis felt a pang of sympathy. He obviously didn’t know exactly how Harry was feeling but he did get how significant major aesthetic changes could be when trans, good or bad. Things like a new haircut could knock you, make you feel more dysphoric when you weren’t even expecting it. In his earlier days, he had certainly had his fair share of regretful buzzcuts or the short-lived deathhawk that he’d expected to love but ended up changing his face shape in a way he hated. And chopping off long hair wasn’t easily reversible like most of his past dilemmas were.

Louis put a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this? It’s okay if the answer is no.” He knew it was more complicated in the grand scheme of things, this was Harry’s job after all. But screw it Louis wouldn’t touch a single hair on her head without Harry’s clear permission. He would storm up to the creative director and insist they scrap the whole idea if she asked. 

Harry took a deep breath that shook as she let it out. “I am sure. It’s just hard to let go.”

Louis squeezed her shoulder and nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry was quiet for a minute before starting to speak. “Obviously I can still be a girl with short hair. I mean I’m also a boy sometimes with long hair. Gender is just so fucking weird!” Harry groaned and rubbed at her face with her hands.

“Preach,” Louis said, forcing a small laugh out of her from behind her palm. “Some of the prettiest girls I know have short hair.”

Harry smiled a bit at that. “Are you calling me pretty?”

“Well, not yet, but don’t worry we’ll fix that,” Louis teased.

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry said, flapping a hand behind her to hit Louis in the arm. Louis watched the remaining tension ease out of her. “I’m ready for a change and I got an amazing acting opportunity coming up, so it’s just the right time. Growing it out was such a journey for me though, in some ways it feels tied to my confidence. It kind of mirrored my journey of coming out.”

Louis could see that in Harry’s work. Over the past couple of years as the model’s hair grew so did her embracing of androgyny and femininity, culminating in her coming out as genderfluid a year ago. Her chocolate brown curls that reached past her shoulders had become tied to her image as a queer figure.

“From age three to seven my mother had decided my signature look was going to be a bob that stopped right at my chin with straight bangs across my forehead. Now I love my mother but as a professional, I will tell you that that is not a good look on anyone,” Louis said. Harry laughed and looked down at her hands, playing with the rings on her fingers.

“I hated it. The bangs always got in my eyes during footie and the ends would get tangled with twigs when I was climbing trees. So at seven years old I marched up to my mother and demanded to have it cut short. Of course, she told me my hair was already pretty short for a girl. Being seven, I didn’t know what it meant then, but I was just baffled she didn’t understand. I told her, ‘no I want it short like a boy’. And the next week I got my first buzzcut.”

Harry smiled, her eyes looking a little wet. “You sound like you were a pretty cool kid.”

“Oh, I was a pest. Always getting into some sort of trouble and charming my way out of it. But I never let anyone make me do anything I didn’t wanna do and I stand by that motto to this day.” Louis hoped he wasn’t laying it on too thick. He didn’t want to guilt Harry or anything, it was her decision. He just was always going to be passionate in the support of a fellow queer person.

“I could’ve used more of that spirit when I was younger. Thankfully I have a lovely bunch of family and friends who never judged me but I was  _ always _ worried about what other people thought about me as a teenager. Constantly wanting everyone to like me...”

“Not that that was hard with a face like this” Louis joked, poking Harry’s cheek right where her dimple bloomed a second later.

“Being pretty did help,” she laughed. “Being a teen model suddenly universally lusted over did not. ‘Cause then the little voice in your head telling you everything that’s wrong about you becomes a big voice of random professionals telling you just how thin but muscular but pretty but masculine you need to be to stay their perfect twink poster child.” Harry rolled her eyes showing these were old wounds she’d since healed from. Louis knows how scars can last though, having a few of his own and not just on his chest. 

“What was coming out like for you? I know so many people say ‘oh, you don’t even have to come out in fashion, everyone’s already gay anyway’ but the focus on you must’ve been a lot of pressure.” Louis himself knows first hand it's not always a walk in the park in the industry. There are certainly more open minds than most careers, but that doesn’t stop the cis gay men making vagina jokes two feet away from him. Louis is loud and proud about his identity, but there are plenty of times where he stays silent about his past around coworkers, not wanting the looks a comment on tampons or easter dresses will get him.

“It wasn’t easy. The hardest was the fact that, of course, my identity crisis decided to hit just as I was reaching true notoriety. I was a lost 21-year-old ‘dating’ every openly gay pop star around, doing shirtless photoshoots every week when I could barely stand to look at myself in a mirror at that point.” Louis hummed in sympathy knowing the feeling deep in his chest. “You know I hadn’t even come out as gay before the whole Abercrombie thing?”

Louis blinked with surprise. Harry had been labeled a gay model from the second anyone heard of her. “Really?”

“Really. Looking back gay felt too gendered. Made my skin itch to be seen as solely a man who could solely love men. Don’t get me wrong I was queer out of the womb, but not gay. Just something. At 21 I reached my breaking point. Called my mum at 2 am crying about feeling like a girl but only kinda, canceled all my jobs for three months and just figured my shit out.”

“Mum’s. They fix everything, don’t they?” Louis said with a fond smile. He really needed to call his mother tonight, it had been too long.

Harry matched his smile. “Honest. I think that was actually when I decided to grow my hair out. By the time I started working again, it was already long enough it looked intentional so no one really bugged me about it but it became important to me. Started my journey with androgyny, really.”

Louis nodded. This was why he got into hairstyling, the importance self-expression could have on someone’s life. Through his tools, Louis got to be a part of that journey with people over and over again. “So, what’s changed?”

“You’re quite perceptive, you know that?”

“Zayn calls it being nosy,” Louis said.

“I’ve reached my destination. Gender train has reached its final stop,” Harry giggled. Louis’ heart fluttered. “Just doesn’t matter to me much anymore y’know? I figured out who I am with long hair and that’s not gonna change when it’s short again, why not mix it up a little? And maybe I just want to keep challenging people. Like all those silly articles on me ‘breaking down gender roles’ for wearing a dress while supposedly a man as if it mattered. Now I get to be a woman in a tux and short hair. Keep ‘em on their toes.”

“Ooh, a bit of a rebel side, I like it. Stick it to the man, fuck gender!” Louis mock shouted. He probably could be heard by the other offices next door, but he didn’t give a shit.

“Yeah, fuck gender,” Harry said giggling again. “You’re fun.”

Louis felt the need to jump up and down a bit like a kid on Christmas. Instead, he just smiled. “Thanks love, you’re not too bad yourself.”

“Even when I’m pouring out my whole life story on you? You really should charge extra for this.”

_ I would listen to whatever you had to say for the rest of my life _ , Louis thought. “Tommo’s haircuts and gender therapy, I should open a salon.”

Harry turned in the chair to look at him again. “I’d pay for you,” she said with a smirk, her eyes darting up and down his body.

“ _ I’m _ not for sale Harriet,” Louis said dramatically splaying his hand across his chest. “Only my services.”

“Of course,” Harry said, still grinning.

“Speaking of which, we should probably get back to the matter at hand.” Louis reached over to the table to pick up his scissors, checking the ponytail was adjusted to the right length to leave him plenty of hair to work with. “Are you ready?”

Harry took a deep breath in, held it for a few seconds and exhaled. This time there was no shakiness, only a confident look in her eyes as she gazed at herself in the mirror. “Ready.”

Louis felt a burst of pride that was probably unfounded given the short period of time they’d known each other. He lined the scissors up, right above the hair tie. “Okay. One, two..” he cut across the mass of hair, needing a few snips cut through it all. In an instant, the brown curls that had taken years of care and courage to create were held in Louis’ hand.

Harry leaned forward immediately to look at herself in the mirror, now left with hair only reaching her chin. It looked not unlike the wretched bob Louis had sported as a five-year-old. If there was anyone that could pull the look off though, it would be Harry. “Fuck,” she said before turning to Louis and smiling.

“We can always try gluing it back on,” Louis said holding up the good ten inches of hair in his hand. 

Harry burst into laughter, forcing Louis to join in. “I can’t believe it. Give me that,” she said grabbing the ponytail from Louis’ hand. “It’s so much,” she said gazing at it in awe.

“Plenty to donate if you want.”

“Yes! I was planning on that,” she said, deftly braiding the hair in her hands to keep it secure, tying it off with an elastic left on the table.

“Now it’s time to get to work,” Louis said.

“Oh right,” Harry laughed. “I forgot there’s more.”

“Girl, you haven’t seen half what I can do with a pair of scissors,” Louis said, overplaying his campiness. Harry giggled and Louis preened.

From there Louis went about the routine, moving Harry first over to the sink to wash her hair and then back to her chair to start shaping the haircut. All the while the two continued talking about jobs and family and fashion. He learned Harry got her good looks from her mom and Harry learned he’d accidentally sworn in front of the twins so much when they were babies Ernie’s first word was fuck. They exchanged stories of which models or pop stars were secretly assholes. Louis even told her about the entire year as a kid he insisted on wearing nothing but camo-print shorts even on Christmas day. Time passed in an instant, Louis working on autopilot with all his attention focused on Harry’s syrupy voice.

“And voila,” Louis said after finishing drying Harry’s hair to reveal the true finished product.

“I know your name is french, but that really doesn’t sound right in a Donny accent,” Harry teased.

“Oi, you’re one to talk , Cheshire girl. Now what’d’ya think?” Louis looked at Harry in the mirror, fussing a bit with some hairs on top to make sure they fell just right. He had to say he was pretty happy with it. They had been going for a sort of seventies vibe, messy like it had been done by someone’s mum in a kitchen but still cute. On Harry, it looked somewhere between a Beatle and a shaggy lesbian. 

“I love it,” she said as she leaned forward and ruffled a hand through it messing up the perfect placement Louis had just worked so hard on. “It’s so short, wow. I feel like my head is ten pounds lighter.”

“I know, nothing left up here to weigh you down,” Louis teased, tapping her on the head.

She turned around to face him. “Hey! You’re a little mean,” Harry pouted.

“I don’t think you mind,” Louis said, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

Harry narrowed her eyes at him and blushed slightly. “Maybe,” she admitted.

Louis took that as confirmation of what he had witnessed the day before, which he really did not need influencing his fantasies. Although, it also isn’t  _ not  _ permission to have those fantasies. He’s getting off track. “Well…” he didn’t want their time together to end. “That’s my part done for today.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harry sounded disappointed. She stood up from the chair, brushing off any loose hairs. “Do you have a cellphone?”

Louis looked at her incredulously. “Harriet, who doesn’t have a cellphone?”

“Well, I’m just checking. And that’s not my name by the way.”

“Hm, I don’t know, I think it is.”

“I think I know my own name,” she said with an exasperated tone.

“Are you sure? Could’ve sworn it was Harriet. Maybe Harold. Or Harrison-”

Harry stepped forward, reducing the gap between them to just a few inches, staring straight into Louis’ eyes. Louis swallowed and hoped it wasn’t too audible. “Louis,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” She leaned forward and kissed him, hands reaching up to cradle his face. The kiss was gentle and sweet as he placed his hand on her waist, feeling the softness of her love handles cupped in his palms. They moved together slowly, touching tongues but never deepening the kiss to anything less innocent. Harry felt pure in his arms, two queer people tied together by raw affection and intimacy. It seemed ages before they finally broke apart, Louis keeping his eyes closed to savor the moment.

They breathed together the same air for a few seconds before Harry tapped her nose against his causing his eyes to blink openly slowly. He was met with the visage of Harry’s green eyes and pink cheeks slightly out of focus due to their closeness. “Hi,” she said, sounding airy.

“Hi,” he replied with a smile crinkling his eyes. Harry’s dimples mirrored him and Louis couldn’t help but lean forward to press his lips against the divot in her cheek. “So why did you want to know if I had a cellphone?”

Harry laughed and tilted her head down to nuzzle against Louis’ shoulder before pulling back to the position they were before. “I was hoping we might do this again over dinner sometime.”

“So it goes seduction first,  _ then _ wine and dine with you.”

“Actually, I’m normally a kiss on the third date kind of lady,” Harry said.

Louis smiled. “Oh, so I’m special then?”

“Very,” Harry said before leaning in to kiss Louis again. Sparks fizzled up Louis' spine at the notion that this feeling was mutual. That the pumping of his heart and the crazy thoughts of what to name the cat they would get together might not just be him being delusional. Who knew what life had in store for them but all Louis could wish for was that Harry might stay by his side for just a little while longer... or maybe the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I have a sequel in the works but its currently on pause as I've started new projects with the shifting of my current interests. I'm still in love with this verse though so lmk if you want a continuation and I'll find the motivation. Feel free to follow my on Tumblr @queer-and-trashy for half Harry and Louis content half the Witcher if that interests you.


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